WEBVTT AND IN THE 80'S HE WASCONSIDERED THE RICHEST BLACK MANIN THE COUNTRY.BUT TONIGHT, IN OUR BLACKHISTORY MONTH SERIES, WE SHOWYOU HOW LEWIS' SPECTACULAR LIFESTARTED RIGHT HERE IN BALTIMORE.>> HE WAS THE QUINTESSENTIALSELF MADE MAN.HIS OWN LAW FIRM ON WALL STREET,A MULTI BILLION DOLLAR BUSINESSEMPIRE BUT, BEFORE ALL OF THATHE GREW UP IN BALTIMORE.HE WAS BORN IN 1942.THE HOUSE HE LIVED IN FROM10 YEARS OLD ON IS STILLSTANDING ON WEST MOSHER STREET.>> MY FATHER WOULD TELL HIMTALES, AND HE SAID, POP POP, WHYDOES WHITE GUYS HAVE TO HAVE ALLTHE FUN?AND THAT WAS HIS BOOK.>> THE BOOK CAME MUCH LATER.THESE ARE ALL THE OLD BLACK ANDWHITE PICTURES FROM THE FI.HE DELIVERED THE AFRO NEWSPAPERWHEN HE WAS 8.LATER, HE WAS A STAR ATHLETE ATDUNBAR HIGH SCHOOL>> HE RODE HIS BIKE TO WORK ATTHE SUBURBAN CLUB AFTER SCHOOL.HE WORKED.HE WORKED AND THE MAN SAID NO.,>> HARD WORK WOULD CARRY HIMTHROUGH COLLEGE AT VIRGINIASTATE AND HARVARD LAW SCHOOL,WHERE HE WAS THE FIRST TO BEADMITTED WITHOUT EVEN APPLYING.LATER HE STARTED THE LAW FIRM IN, MANHATTAN.AND THEN CAME THE TWO DEFININGBUSINESS DEALS OF HIS CAREER, IN1983, HE BOUGHT MCCALL PATTECOMPANY FOR FOUR YEARS LATER, HE$22.5 MILLION.BOUGHT BEATRICE INTERNATIONALFOODS FOR AT THE TIME, IT WAS$985 MILLION.THE LARGEST OFFSHORE LEVERAGEBUY-OUT EVER.>> HE KNEW HOW TO MAKE DUEWITHOUT COMPLAINING.NOW HE DIDN'T TAKE NO CRAP, THATWHAT HIS FAVORITE WORD, HE TAKESNO CRAP.>> I'VE NEVER LIKED ANYONETELLING ME WHAT COULD OR COULDNOT DO.>> HE ENJOYED A GRAND LIFE WITHHIS WIFE AND 2 DAUGHTERS.AND THROUGH HIS FOUNDATION, GAVEMILLIONS OF DOLLARS.BUT THE OBSTACLE HE COULDN'TOVERCOME, WAS A BRAIN CANCERDIAGNOSE AT JUST 50-YEARS-OLD.BEFORE HE DIED IN 1993, LEWISEXPRESSED HIS HOPE FOR WHATBECAME THE REGINALD F LEWISMUSEUM IN BALTIMORE.WHERE, YOUNG STUDENTSESPECIALLY, COULD LEARN ABOUTMARYLAND'S AFRICAN AMERICANHISTORY AND CULTURE.>> IT'S A DAILY REMINDER TO ALLOF US OF WHAT HE MEANT, AND WHATHE LIVED FOR, WHAT HE STOOD FOR.>> HE ROSE ABOVE ALL THAT WASNOT EXPECTED OF HIM, HE SET HIS

Lewis was the quintessential self-made man, who owned a law firm on Wall Street to go along with a multi-billion-dollar business empire. But, before all of that, Lewis was just a child growing up in Baltimore.

Born in 1942, Lewis’ childhood home still stands on West Mosher Street.

"My father would tell him tales,” Carolyn Fugett, Lewis’ mother, said. “And he said, ‘Pop pop, why does white guys have to have all the fun?’ And that was his book.”

Lewis developed a drive to succeed at a young age. He delivered The Afro-American newspaper when he was 8, and later went on to be a star athlete at Dunbar High School. He would also ride his bike to his job at the Suburban Club after school.

“’Can I park cars? Can I do this,’” Carolyn Fugett said her son would ask. “He worked, he worked, and the man said ‘no,’ but he would hang around, get the cars, and make the tips.”

Lewis’ brother, Jean Fugett, shared similar stories.

“From the very first days, I knew that if he didn't come home, he was going to one of his jobs, because he wanted to get ahead,” Jean Fugett said.

Hard work carried Lewis through college at Virginia State University and Harvard Law School, where he was the first person to be admitted without even applying.

Later, Lewis started his law firm in Manhattan. And then came the two defining business deals of his career. In 1983, he bought McCall Pattern Co. for $22.5 million. Four years later, Lewis bought Beatrice International Foods for $985 million. At the time, it was the largest offshore leverage buyout ever.

"He knew how to make do without complaining,” Carolyn Fugett said. “Now he didn't take no crap. That what his favorite word: he takes no crap.”

"I've never liked anyone telling me what could or could not do,” Lewis said several decades ago.

Lewis enjoyed a grand life with his wife and two daughters, and through his foundation, gave millions of dollars to charitable causes.

But the obstacle Lewis could not overcome was a brain cancer diagnose at just 50 years old.

Before he died in 1993, Lewis expressed his hope for what became the Reginald F. Lewis Museum in Baltimore, a place where young students could learn about Maryland's African-American history and culture.

“It's a daily reminder to all of us of what he meant, and what he lived for, what he stood for,” museum executive director Wanda Draper said.

“He rose above all that was not expected of him,” Carolyn Fugett said. “He set his standards to live up to.”